Another Battle For the Wolf
by anreg
Summary: The personal musings of Saitoh/Saitou Hajime as he fulfills his duty on another assignment.
1. Chapter 1 The Departure

This is a side story to my 'Life the Saitoh/Fujita Way' collection. In the timeline of that universe it falls after Chapter 13, which is titled, 'Then There Were Three'.

Another Battle for the Wolf – The Departure

May 1877

As the ship pulls away, carried by the evening tide, I keep my eyes focused on my wife who stands on the dock bidding me farewell, holding our young son close to her. She insisted on coming regardless of my objections. Secretly, it does please me that she wanted to see me off, not to mention that I have learned not to fight with her when she has her mind set on a certain course of action.

I don't know when I'll see her again, but I'm confident that I will. I do regret leaving her, because the burdens of our household will now rest entirely on her shoulders. Tsutomu is only five months old, and taking care of him is a full time job as it is. But she is strong, and she is a survivor. We've been married almost three years. She knew that protecting Japan would play a large role in my life, and in hers also, once she consented to be my wife.

This morning, as soon as we arrived in Yokohama, I settled my family into a hotel for the night. They'll return home to Tokyo tomorrow. At least the train between Tokyo and Yokohama makes travelling a little easier these days. This day is quickly coming to an end; it will soon be dark. I flick the glowing embers off of my cigarette before I place it back between my lips and take a long, slow drag. My view of Tokio has faded, and the lapping of the water against the hull harkens of things to come.

I refuse to worry about her, or Tsutomu. She is a well-trained daughter of a samurai family, and it's not like we are still in the middle of a civil conflict, or trying to survive a Tonami winter. It's far safer in Tokyo now, than it was just eight or nine years ago, during the Boshin War. However, she has become such an important part of my life that I cannot consciously erase all thoughts of her from my mind, and only focus on the battles that lie ahead. No, those days of single mindedness are far behind me. Now, not only do I have a job to do for the government, but I have a pack to care for as well. I smirk to myself. Who would have thought that one of Mibu's wolves could be influenced in such a way by his mate?

In February, not long after this conflict began, I enlisted in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. It seems I can't keep away from applying my sense of justice. Undoubtedly, it was this very same state of mind that drew me into the Shinsengumi many years ago. This new rebellion has to be stopped.

In addition to the regular army the central government decided to use the Tokyo police in its struggle against Satsuma. That's why I'm currently on a ship bound for Kyushu. It will take almost two weeks to reach our destination, as we will be stopping at a few ports along the way, giving the group I'm with, the Bungo Police Unit, plenty of time to prepare and fine tune our strategy. I'm serving as the captain of the second troop, a contingent of over 100 men. Hagiwara Sadamoto from the Tokyo police is our commander.

Saigō Takamori is an idiot. The course he's charted is not the way to deal with the government's growing political corruption. This grudge match of his, trying to pit one region of the country against another, can only have a very unpleasant ending for him, and get a lot of others killed unnecessarily. I can feel it. A better way would be to go after those officials, who are actually causing the problems, and not involve the rest of the citizenry, most of whom are only innocent bystanders, trying to survive in this new age of Meiji. That's how we took care of internal problems in my Shinsengumi days; we just discretely eliminated the source of the evil.

This is not the first time I've been called to battle, and I doubt it will be the last, not with my sense of duty. Perhaps someday my fights won't involve the whole of Japan. Perhaps someday the only battles I'll fight will be to keep the peace in the streets of Tokyo where we live. That is my hope, because the older I get, the more I desire to spend my nights at home in a warm bed in the arms of my wife. I shake my head, almost in disgust, loathe to admit even to myself what a really good woman can do to a man. Flicking the spent end of my smoke to the water below, I head down to my quarters, anticipating with relish the hunt that lies ahead. The sooner it's over, the sooner I'll return to my wife and son.

Author's Notes:

The Satsuma Rebellion (,Seinan Sensō/Southwestern War) was a revolt of Satsuma ex-samurai, lead by Saigō Takamori, against the Meiji government. It lasted from January 29, 1877 to September 24, 1877. It was the last and the most serious of the armed uprisings against the new Meiji government.

While a member of the Tokyo Police Department, the historical Fujita Goro fought in the Seinen War.

The first railroad in Japan opened in September 1872, running from Shimbashi, west of Tokyo, to Yokohama.

I used the detailed timeline of Saitoh Hajime's life which is posted on the hajimenokizu dot com website, and information from the shinsengumi-no-makoto dot net backslash saito underscore hajime dot htm website as the basis for the events in this story.

Standard disclaimers apply. In my opinion the historical Fujita family should only be owned by their descendents. The events described above do not accurately reflect real-life history.


	2. Chapter 2 Some Things Never Change

**Another Battle for the Wolf – Some Things Never Change**

Didn't someone once say that the more things change the more they stay the same? And so it is with these young recruits, who have yet to taste a battle. I shake my head in disgust. Didn't any of them listen to their father's tales about what things were like at the end of the Bakumatsu? Didn't any of them hear of the Battles at Toba Fushimi and Aizu that were fought during the Boshin War? If they had, certainly they would have more respect for the task at hand, and not flaunt their cavalier attitudes so openly.

I hear their chatter, their words of bravado, the boasting of what brave deeds they will do. I have heard it all before. It reminds me of another time, another place and another group of young men who were yet to be tested and refined by the grim realities of war. It was many years ago, but the memories are etched into my mind as if it were only yesterday. I don't remember having such a flippant attitude, myself, but many of my comrades did, but not for long. They changed their tune quickly thanks to the first skirmishes we fought.

I know exactly what is going to happen to this bunch at the drawing of first blood. Some of them will faint, some will empty the contents of their gut, and others will die. Some will actually find the courage and will to fulfill their duty and fight until victory is achieved by one side or the other. Most of these young men have never killed. They have no idea what it feels like, looks like, or smells like to be drenched in your own blood, or that of your enemy. They have no idea the respect for life that develops after surviving a particularly intense battle. Of course these days, the battles are not as bloody as they were in my younger days. A bullet kills efficiently, leaving only a small hole in the flesh; it is nothing like the wound left by the slash of a katana; it is nothing like watching a head roll.

War is never glorious. It is messy, bloody, and dirty, but very often necessary. People die, both warriors and civilians alike. How many of these young morons will board the ship to return to Tokyo with us when this business is finished? I'd be willing to wager that those that do will no longer swagger and boast. Having to kill seems to instill a greater respect for life. It almost seems like a contradiction, but I have found it to be true.

I've often been referred to as a cold blooded killer. Nothing could be further from the truth. I only kill to eliminate evil from our society. I have to admit that I do enjoy the hunt almost as much as removing the source of the evil itself. I have killed without regret, but only to protect innocent people and apply justice to those who deserve it.

The docks here at the Port of Saganoseki are a beehive of activity, crowded with all manner of wagons and teams, and men milling about. We made landfall here in northern Kyushuu a few days ago and the task of unloading supplies is in full swing. This place definitely has the feel of an army on the move. Side arms, rifles, and rucksacks containing the men's personal supplies were issued to each combatant before they left the ship. Some of us still wear katana, a weapon that many warriors these days feel has reached obsolescence. I'm not one who shares that opinion. Mine has kept me alive many a day, and I will continue to depend on it to save my life, if the need arises.

It takes a great deal of supplies to support an army on the move. Saigō has an advantage over us. His home is here in Satsuma. He doesn't have to haul his supplies from a great distance. Since this is the land of his clan, the local people will gladly supply him with what he needs. In addition, a man who is fighting for the life of his homeland is a much more dedicated soldier than one who fights only because he receives a paycheck for his efforts.

Saigo Takamori will be defeated. He must be for the sake of our nation. It was only nine short years ago that another conflict ripped our country apart, tearing at its very soul. Our collective way of life has changed since then, and in my opinion those changes have not always been for the better. Too many old ways and traditions were carelessly discarded or thrown aside so that Meiji could embrace all that was foreign.

However, rather than turning my back on my country, something which I could never do, I joined my former enemy, seeking employment in a branch of the new government, so I could work from within, keeping my eye on things, making sure there is no fertile ground from which corruption can spring. I'm now in a good position to deal with potentially threatening issues before they become a problem, nipping them off before they can sprout and grow.

There have been times of conflict in Japan, such as the one that lies before us now, where battles are fought to rid our land of a pestilence that is eating at its core, threatening our very existence and life as we know it. I will continue to kill, even after this war is over, but only when necessary, and only to rid my world of evil, for there is all manner of evil lurking in the streets these days.

I flip through the documents in my hands. They are the shipping manifests for the cargo we carried with us. It seems that regardless of where I am, I cannot spare myself of my own personal scourge, paperwork. Sighing, I spot one of my men. Calling him over, I shove the sheaf of papers into his hands, giving him instructions to find everything on the list and make sure it was taken from the ship's hold and loaded onto one of the wagons. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can begin our march. Before I get some lunch, I tell him to find a few more men to help him with the task. Otherwise, we'll be here for another half day.

Although I'm hungry, I doubt if I will enjoy the food I find, because no one can make soba like Tokio.


	3. Chapter 3 A Not So Gracious Guest

**Another Battle for the Wolf** – A Not So Gracious Guest

July 1877

It's hot in here and I can't wait to get out of this place. Taking a drag on my cigarette does nothing to improve my mood, as I stare out a window near my bedside here in the infirmary at Dainichi Temple, where for a few days I'm currently a prisoner or a guest, depending on how I choose to look at it. My confinement is by order of our commander, so there is little I can do about it besides grumble and growl.

At least they gave me a bed with a view, so I don't feel so trapped. However, it looks out onto a very serene garden, a sight more fitting for someone like my wife to see. Speaking of my wife, I'm sure if she knew what happened she would come down here and take care of me herself. In her opinion I don't take good enough care of myself when I'm away from home. I can't imagine how she gets ideas like that.

The wound under the tightly wrapped cotton bandage itches. What I wouldn't give for a chopstick right now so I could poke under the cloth and relieve that irritating sensation. My men and I had crossed Fukuhara Pass, reaching Yakio. We defeated the enemy there, managing to capture two cannon along the way. We continued our gun fight as we moved toward Mt. Takayuka, hoping to assist the troops already fighting there. That's when it happened; that's when I was hit. I should have been able to dodge that bullet. I must be getting old, hence the slow reflexes. My injury caused us to move back to Yakio temporarily before they managed to drag me here, and resumed the fight without me.

Good thing I was hit in the leg. I don't think Tokio would forgive me, if it had killed me. I smirk to myself. No, she wouldn't have liked that at all. My promise to her has always been that I'll come back home, and I'm not about to break it. What Tokio doesn't know won't hurt her, and this is something that she doesn't need to know until I am fully healed and back on the battlefield, maybe not even then, now that I think about it. I'm sure her imagination can conjure up all sorts of gruesome things that could happen to me during this skirmish, and I have no desire to fuel her fantasies with a good dose of reality.

A scowl crosses my face. That moronic brother of hers, Morinusuke, is also part of this campaign, although he's not in my unit. He's serving with the contingent from Aizu. No doubt there are some big mouths around that know that he is my brother-in-law, and can't wait to wag their tongues to tell him what happened to me. It would be just my luck to have him write to Tokio to tell her what happened. If he does that, there will be hell to pay. Since I survived, there is no need to tell her; she'll just worry that it will happen again, because this fight is far from over.

I muse a bit about the differences between the Seinan and Boshin Wars, only nine short years apart. These days we use all manner of modern weaponry. There were firearms during the battles years ago, but they weren't as advanced as they are today, and there was a greater chance of being cut down by a katana than being disabled by a bullet, especially during the Battle of Aizu. Anyway, a katana is a much more civilized and honorable instrument than a rifle or side arm. There isn't as much collateral damage.

My mood darkens again. Oba, that guy reporting for the Tokyo Nichinichi, was tagging along with us the day it happened. If he sends anything about those particular battles back to the paper, he'd better not mention my name. My wife is a regular reader of that rag, and I sure as hell don't want her reading about my mishap in the paper.

Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath as I hear footsteps approaching. I've promised myself to try to be as polite as possible to the nursing staff. The last thing I want is for them to make me stay here longer than necessary as retribution for my not so gracious attitude. It's a wonder that any of them are still brave enough to approach me. Glancing up, I see they sent a newbie, since I don't recognize him. Smart move on their part. Giving a sigh of resignation, I snuff the remainder of my cigarette in the ashtray I'm holding in my lap, and wait for the moron to tell me what he wants. All I want is to get out of here, and as soon as possible won't be soon enough.

Author's Notes:

According to the timeline posted on the hajimenokizu dot com website, Fujita Goro served as a semi-captain with the second police platoon during the Seinen War. He received a gunshot wound on July 12, 1877. Tokio's brother, Takagi Morinusuke also fought in the Seinan War.

One of my sources was an on-line translation of an article from the Tokyo Nichinichi Newspaper by the reporter, Oba, chronicling the activities of the Bungo unit during their campaigns in July 1877. He actually mentions in his article that Fujita Goro suffered a gunshot wound.

I also used the website shinsengumi-no-makoto dot net backslash saito underscore hajime dot htm as a source of information.


	4. Chapter 4 The Return

Another Battle For the Wolf – The Return

Thank the gods for the telegraph lines. When we put into Kobe, I was able to disembark long enough to send a short message to Tokio to tell her that the ship carrying me home will dock in Yokohama harbor on October 26th. Sending her a message, letting her know the date of my return, was what she asked for, and a courtesy that I was more than happy to grant her. Knowing my wife, she will not only be at the dock to greet me, she'll arrive in town at least a day early, just in case this crate manages to make better time than the captain of the vessel thinks.

I have no doubt that she'll book a hotel room for the evening of my arrival, telling me it would be too tiring for us to take the last train of the day back to Tokyo. I'll let her think that if she wishes, but I know her little game. She just doesn't want to delay our reunion celebration any longer than need be, and I have to agree with her about that. It's been five long months since I last saw her.

Chances are I wouldn't be able to leave Yokohama right away, regardless. Even though I was working for the central government on this assignment, I was still attached to a police unit with all its inherent paperwork. Gads, no one needs to dig a hole to bury a corpse in this country; all they need to do is find a precinct station, any would do, and ask for a pile of unnecessary forms and reports. They'd get more than enough of that stuff to bury any number of dead.

So it's very likely that I'll have to stick around Yokohama for a day or two. I'm pleased my family will be here to keep me company. That way I can finish what I need to finish without being distracted by thoughts of how soon I could get out of Yokohama and get back home to Tokyo to see them. Although I'll act indifferent to anyone but her, I am glad that Tokio plans to be in town when I return. I have to admit that my wife often knows what I need before I know myself. However, that is a thought that I will never voice aloud to anyone, least of all her; she is smug enough as it is about certain things.

Will Tsutomu even recognize me? I've been gone for five months, and he was only five months old when I left on this assignment. The irony of this does not escape me. I've missed half of his short life. When I left, he was trying to push himself up from the floor, and now he is crawling. Tokio mentioned it in her letter to me. He's probably even pulling himself up to stand by grabbing onto one of the low tables or even a clothing chest in one of the bedrooms. I'll bet his first word won't be 'pa-pa', either. As much as I hate to miss some of the milestones in my son's young life, I have to make sure that Japan will be a safe place for him and his contemporaries in the future even if it means I have to spend long periods of time away from home now. In my mind the trade-off is worth it.

This war certainly ended on a differently than the Boshin War. I was on the losing side of that one. Instead of returning home triumphantly, as I am doing now, I was carted off to Echigo as a prisoner of war, along with my comrades, before eventually being pardoned by the Meiji government and released to exile in Tonami. Being exiled in Tonami was akin to a death sentence, but somehow many of us managed to survive.

I have to admit that it feels much better to return as the victor, rather than one of the defeated with a price on my head. I've always forced myself not to think about what the state of the country would be like today if the Bakufu had won the war. There is no sense in spending time and energy pondering something that can never be changed. It would only be an exercise in frustration and futility. I have a good life now, one much better than even my imagination granted me. I suppose that I have but one other person besides myself to thank for that, and one of these days, I might even let her know.

Author's Notes:

The contingent from the Tokyo Police Department that fought in the Seinan War returned from Kyushu to Tokyo on October 28, 1877. This little piece has them returning to Yokohama on October 26, which would give them a couple of days there before returning to Tokyo. (It suits my fictional view of things.)

There should really be another chapter before this one, but since I've got this one done, I decided to post it. Perhaps in the future, if I can think of something else to write, I'll rearrange the chapters and insert something else before this one. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5 Home Fires Keep Burning

In the time line of 'Another Battle for the Wolf," this would come after Chapter 3 in chronological order.

**Home Fires Keep Burning**

_August 18, 1877_

_Hajime,_

_I hope this letter finds you, and finds you well. I know that mail to the war zone is erratic, especially to the front lines, but I just needed this chance to talk to you. I do not have to tell you how much Tsutomu and I miss you. I am sure that you know. We have been well. I keep busy with the garden, and getting vegetables dried for winter use. Doing the work outside helps keep my mind from dwelling on things that are better left alone. _

_I will resist the urge to scold you. I am sure that you know what I am talking about. I was both worried and relieved at the same time after reading Oba-san's report from the front that was published in the latest edition of the Nichinichi. I am a faithful reader of not only his column, but also the rest of the paper, as I am sure you remember. I suppose that is the only way I can find out what you and your troops are doing, and how you have been. It seems that, since you are one of the sub-commanders, they actually publish news about you. I doubt very much that you would have the time to write to me even if you were so inclined. Morinusuke certainly doesn't reveal anything in the letters he sends me. Something tells me that you probably had something to do with him keeping quiet about your recent wound. I know you well enough to be certain that this has to be the truth._

_At least I know you lived to fight another day, since it was only your wounding, not your death, that was reported in the paper. Hajime, you need to keep your promise to me. I know you have a duty to Japan, and I understand and support that. I would have it no other way. It is one of the many things about you that I love, yes, that I love. Please indulge your wife in your absence and let her wax poetic about you. But your son and I need you as much as your country does. Although we are more than happy to share you with her to make sure she is protected, we do want you to return to us when your responsibilities to her are finished._

_Having Tsutomu is such a great comfort to me while you are away. He has your eyes, your curiosity, and your zest for life. As I watch him, I can tell that he has also inherited your keen observation skills. He seems to soak in his surroundings, even as young as he is. We celebrated his eight month*birthday not long ago. He is crawling now, delighting in this new mobility of his. He loves to explore every inch of the house, and I must be careful to pick up any errant object from the floor, lest it find its way into his mouth. _

_I know you may not be able to do this, but if it is at all possible, can you please send me a telegram to let me know when you will arrive back in Yokohama? If I know when you will return, I will be sure to be there when you walk off the ship. There is not much more to say, except to tell you again how much you are loved and missed. Tsutomu will be up from his nap soon, and after he wakes I want to take this to the precinct station to try to have it sent with the dispatches going to your unit. I figured that was the best way to try to get this to you, if they will allow the inclusion of a piece of personal mail in the official courier's pouch._

_You are always in my thoughts and I look forward to having you with me again._

_Tokio_

Smirking, I let out a light snort, and put the letter down. Picking up my rice bowl and chop sticks it doesn't take long to finish what is left of my dinner, which was rudely interrupted by mail call. I've never enjoyed having my meals interrupted by anything, unless it was to pay special attention to Tokio. A mail delivery during the dinner hour is usually quite irritating. However, today I found something extra tucked between the government missives sent from Tokyo. It was a letter from my wife. I thought I was imagining things when I smelled Tokio's perfume on the bundle of mail that was handed to me. I should have known better than to think that my nose failed me. I can only imagine how much of that stuff she had to smear on the paper to have the scent last until I received her letter.

Mail sent by regular means doesn't often reach us. But it seems that my wife was smart enough to somehow get someone at my old precinct station to include her letter in the official dispatches being sent to the front. I shouldn't be amazed that it managed to reach me. I've always known that Tokio was a very clever and resourceful woman. Knowing her, she probably bribed them with a treat from her kitchen. That is my wife for you. I furrow my brow, my train of thought reminding me of how much my stomach misses her cooking. Too bad she couldn't have sent some of whatever it was she used for a bribe along with her letter.

I suppose that news from home would cause a longing in most men, a feeling that some would call 'homesickness'. This letter from Tokio just causes me to have more resolve. She understands why I'm here. Long ago she bought into my vision of Japan. She had a similar viewpoint before I married her, otherwise, I don't think she could stand being yoked to someone who was subjected to danger as often as I am. If I wasn't here chasing that idiot Saigo, I'd be home and in the path of something very similar. Neither she, nor I, can see the difference between battles here on the island of Kyushu or those in the streets of Tokyo. A firearm and katana work as efficiently in both settings, and criminals are criminals regardless of where they choose to live and die. If there is a sour aspect to this assignment here in Kyushu, it would be that I can't return home each night, as I seem to sleep better with my wife beside me.

I'm glad to hear from her, to know that she and the boy are well. I suppose it was better to hear her reaction to my recent mishap by letter than in person. I'm certain it will spare me an in depth discussion about the matter once I return home. I have to admit that it strokes my male pride to know that my wife truly misses my presence. There are many women who would feel that it is a blessing to have their husband away from home for months, but not Tokio.

Many of the men under my command also have wives and children back in Tokyo. However, from what I overhear when I do my evening rounds, a few of them are very concerned about how the families they left behind are coping without them. In some cases the men are so bothered that they can't concentrate on the task at hand. Morons, who can't focus on what we are doing here, put others in danger and get people killed.

At least I don't have to worry about my wife. She is independent and capable to a fault, leaving me to do what I need to do, free from concern about my domestic responsibilities. I tried to take care of a few things for her before I left. I also found a trusted associate or two to help her with the heavier tasks, if the need arises. It was the least I could do for her. I know that I will be home eventually, but the length of a war can never really be determined.

I realize that I am actually growing old and soft, when I find myself considering her request to send that telegram she wanted. I'd rather just surprise her and show up on our doorstep one day, but somehow I don't think that she would appreciate my tactics. It seems that a married man would eventually unlock the secret to understanding the mind of his woman. So far, I have been less than totally successful in that mission. However, I look forward to the continuing challenge.

Note:

*I believe that in historical Japan, a person turned a year older each January first. Since Fujita Tsutomu was born on December 15, 1876, he would be thought of as being 18 months old in August 1877. I am using the western way of figuring ages for this piece, giving his age as 8 months.


	6. Chapter 6 The Reunion Part 1

My thanks to t42n24t2 for giving my muse a push to write this reunion chapter! Chronologically, this comes after Chapter 4, The Return. It will be a two part offering.

Another Battle for the Wolf – The Reunion Part 1

I have missed my wolf so much. Years ago I couldn't even imagine that any man could have such an effect on me. It's like half of me was missing these past five months. If not for Tsutomu, I would have gone crazy with loneliness. What I felt was an aching emptiness within, a realization that a part of me was no longer there. It is so hard to explain, but so deeply felt.

I was so pleased and surprised when I received the telegram he sent from Kyoto, letting me know when his ship would arrive in Yokohama. I thought that he might get here a day or so early, or be delayed by something unforeseeable. In either case, I intended to be in Yokohama with plenty of time to spare, and ready to wait however long it took.

I got here two days ago, and I'm staying at a very nice ryokan owned by old friends of my late father. They always give me a special rate when I stay there. For that I am very thankful, as it means I can afford to stay as long as necessary. As soon as I arrived in town, I checked to see when my husband's ship was expected, and it is actually on schedule, much to my surprise, because the government has a penchant for inefficiency, something which irritates my very efficient husband to no end.

Tsutomu and I have had two full days to rest and anticipate Hajime's reappearance in our life. I doubt if our son will recognize his father. He doesn't take well to strangers, and he was only five months old when Hajime left. It's now five months later. I hope he doesn't start to cry when he first sees his father. Fortunately at the moment, Tsutomu is sleeping, swaddled safely on my back. I arrived at the dock this morning long before the ship was due, but the harbor master was kind enough to find a place for my son and me to sit and wait in the port's office. He even offered me some tea, when he found out that I was waiting for my husband who is with the TMPD contingent returning from the Seinen War. It seems that one of his brothers is also arriving home today on the same vessel as Hajime. I wonder if the two know each other.

I kept watch out the office window and as soon as I saw a ship enter the harbor, I rushed out of the building and onto the pier after securing Tsutomu on my back. Hajime's is the only ship due today.

So here I am, standing on the dock, as close to the water as I dare. I shake my head, a bit bewildered at my current state of mind. I am a 31 year old woman who has been married for over three years, yet I am as giddy as a new bride anticipating her wedding night. I should be disgusted with myself for not feeling like a calm traditional housewife. I suppose I could blame how I feel right now on my husband. His absence and his eminent return are surely causing these sensations. It is as if a thousand butterflies are beating their wings in my stomach.

*****

The sail home was uneventful. It gave me plenty of time to muse about things other than work. Taking a last drag on the cigarette between my lips, I remove it from my mouth and flick it over the railing. She will expect me to be out on deck watching for her. So I tell myself that is the reason why I am out here in the crisp October air, to make her happy. If I were to admit it, which I won't, I am out here for myself, as well, to catch a first glimpse of a face that has been absent from my life for far too long.

Although I have a responsibility to my country, my wife is the reason I have for living, and the reasons surrounding her are far more compelling than any duty to country could ever be.

***

The closer the ship comes to the dock, the more intently I scan the railing, looking for a familiar face. There he is! I can see him standing on the deck. My heart, which has been beating wildly in my chest, leaps to my throat. It is all I can do to keep standing here serenely. I have the impulse to jump up and down and wave my arms at him. However, the last thing I want to do is to embarrass him in front of his troops and his superiors, so I stay firmly planted in place, raising my hand in an elegant, tasteful greeting, the model of a demure Japanese wife. With his eyesight I know he will see me.

It takes an agonizingly long time for the vessel to be secured to the dock and the gang plank lowered. The minutes seem like hours to me. Then it happens. Men start moving. He isn't the first one off. I really didn't expect him to be. It must be the wounded that will leave first, as there is a line of stretchers, each waiting for its turn to disembark. A knot twists in my stomach as I remember Hajime's close call. We were lucky this time. At least these men, although injured, are returning home. Many will not. I am so thankful that mine will.

****

Wounded first, then the top brass, that's the order for unloading. Being one of the sub-commanders, I fully intended to wait until all of my men left the ship before I disembarked. However, one the men in the police unit I commanded during this Saigo business was also part of my Shinsengumi troop. He was with me in Aizu, helping me defend the area as the Boshin War came to a bitter end. Of course, all of my men back in those days could recognize Katamori, Teru-hime and Teru's secretary, who is now my wife. A few, this moron included, even managed to learn that I had married the girl. Consequently, I wasn't the only one who spotted Tokio waiting on the dock.

A little group from my unit, him included, was buzzing like a hive of bees as they stood behind me. I could only imagine what the idiots were cooking up before they approached me. Apparently, they decided on their own, that I needed to be the next person off this crate. It goes against my nature to go before them, and this current troop of mine knows better than to go against my orders. But telling them to go first was more of a request than an order, and today I will humor all of them. I bet that shocks a few of them, as I'm not known for changing my position, at least not without a compelling reason, and having a wife waiting for me does not fit that category.

Since I'm returning home in one piece from a successful mission after being away for over five months, I decide to be charitable for once, and indulge them. I have a feeling that wanting me to go before them is their way of showing me respect and of thanking me for getting them home safely. They were for the most part, a reliable group of men. Regretfully, not everyone under my command made it, although most did. Holding up my hands in surrender, and nodding my thanks, I stride to the ramp and with a dignified, but brisk step make my way down to the dock in a matter of moments.

Tokio stays where she is, waiting for me to approach. It would be unseemly for her to run in my direction. I appreciate her thoughtfulness, but knowing her, I'm sure that she is itching to break free from the force that has her rooted where she is. She's not holding Tsutomu, but the cloth over her shoulder tells me he must be strapped to her back.

Stopping in front of her, I look down to meet her gaze. Her soft brown eyes are glistening, and to me, no one could look so good. I lift my hand to her face, disregarding the pounding footsteps now flowing off of the ship behind me. My gesture was instinctive and unplanned. It's as if my wife and I are alone; in this moment we are oblivious to all the activity around us, as men and materials stream off the ship and onto the pier.

* * * *

Thank kami my baby is asleep on my back and my hands are free. As soon as Hajime touches my cheek, I lose all self-control and throw my arms around his waist, murmuring my apologies. I have missed and needed him for so long, that the urge to greet him overcomes my sense of modesty. I feel tears that I cannot control seep from my eyes, as I press my face to his chest. I don't even care if he has a clean uniform on or not. It has been so long since I've felt him close to me. The familiar faint odor of tobacco tickles my nose, making me realize that he is finally here with me, and not the creation of my imagination, as he was on the many nights that I slept fitfully on our futon.

*****

I sigh, and raise my hand to stroke Tokio's hair as she presses herself against my chest. I can feel dampness seeping through the fabric of my shirt. She is certainly giving everyone who is coming down the gang plank quite a show. But I can't hold it against her. No man can expect his wife not to release her pent up emotions, during a reunion such as this after so much time apart. As she grips my waist, I take a step forward, rotating us, turning my back to the multitudes around us, efficiently shielding her from prying eyes with my tall frame. I don't know how long I will need to stand here sheltering her, but I will wait for most of the commotion to subside before I let her go. I will not allow her to embarrass herself by showing her emotions in front of my troops, or the rest of the contingent. It doesn't bother me if they see her like this, but I know that after the fact, it will embarrass her.

A very satisfied smile graces my face and as things quiet down around us, I lean down and gently kiss the top of her head. Her hair has the familiar fragrance that I often longed to get a whiff of on some of those long, lonely nights on Kyushu.

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7 Reunion Part 2Tsutomu's Turn

Looks like "The Reunion" will have three parts. Here is the second installment.

Another Battle for the Wolf – The Reunion Part 2 (Tsutomu's Turn)

Tokio still has that death grip around my middle, but her rather ragged breathing is finally beginning to calm. Raising my head after kissing her hair, I look over her shoulder to the bundle secured to her back. All I can see is a mass of black hair and a bit of movement. I'm thankful that my son decided to take a nap, giving his mother and me a few precious, uninterrupted moments together.

I still have a lot to do here in Yokohama before I can take Tokio and Tsutomu back to Tokyo. Spending time with my family, other than the few hours that remain of this day, will have to wait until we return home. But I am pleased that my wife and son are here with me; their presence will make it easier for me to focus on the work-related tasks that must be completed before we take the train home, not that I ever have trouble focusing, especially when my wife is nearby. Not to mention that I will no longer have to sleep alone.

****

I can feel my son stirring on my back, as my husband allows me to keep myself pressed to him. I finally realize that Hajime is standing between me and the men disembarking from the vessel. I can't even see them. Good thing, too, or I think my face would be beet red with embarrassment. Poor Hajime, to be yoked to a woman who cannot control her emotions, certainly cannot please him. However, he has made no move to unlatch me from his torso. For this I am thankful. He often grants me more latitude than I grant myself. I finally release my grip from his waist, but before I can wipe my eyes with my kimono sleeve a western-style handkerchief appears in Hajime's hand, and he begins to wipe my face. Watching him intently as he concentrates on his task, I manage to smile. He is here and he is safe. That is all that has ever mattered to me. He even seems none the worse for wear after what must have been a very tiring campaign, not that it should surprise me that he looks so good. He returns my gaze a few times as he ministers to my face, giving me a hint of a smile. It is only then that I realize he looks a little thinner than he did when he left.

****

Being one of the sub-commanders, I have paperwork to finish before I return home. However, going home isn't an issue with me, since 'home' in the form of my wife and son came to me. I'm certain that Tokio and I will have quite a satisfying reunion celebration later on this evening, once Tsutomu is settled for the night. Having children does put a crimp in ones plans. Things can no longer be as spontaneous between us as they once were. But that is of no consequence. I'm patient, and the reward when I'm alone with her is more than worth the wait.

"Are you staying at Hashimoto's?" I question her. I really don't need to ask; I know she is; we always do when we come to Yokohama. All I want right now is a bath, some food, and a little time with my family. I don't have to report back to our temporary office here at the pier until tomorrow morning. My troops, or rather my former troops, at least those who are employed by the TMPD, have two weeks off before they have to report back to their respective precinct stations. Some of my subordinates, during this Kyushu campaign, were from my station, but others were from different parts of Tokyo. Having served with men from other areas should make it easier, if I ever need to consult with officers from another part of town than the one I usually patrol. It never hurts to have compatriots in many different locations. Many times it makes life as a police officer easier.

The single men who were under my command will most likely be spending tonight, their first night off duty in five months, drinking and carrying on as troops on furlough are bound to do, just as my comrades and I did during my Shinsengumi days, when I was a single man. All the married ones were planning on taking a train back to Tokyo today. I can't blame them for wanting to get back to their families as soon as possible. I'd be in the same frame of mind if I didn't have such a considerate and resourceful wife.

I finish wiping Tokio's face, tucking the cloth back into my uniform's pocket, before I deftly move behind her and gently lift the bundle from her back. He's much heavier than he was when I left. As soon as I touch him, he responds by going a bit stiff and rubbing his small fists to his eyes, yawning, trying to wake. Eyes the color of mine, blink awake, and widen at the sight of me, giving me that look that babies always have when they are deciding whether to smile or whether to cry. I don't expect him to remember me; he was so young when I left. He's spent half his young life without his father around. That is far too long a time, as far as I'm concerned.

****

Tsutomu begins to wake as Hajime lifts him from the sling. I hold my breath, watching in awe this reunion between father and son, waiting to see how our boy will react. Much to my delight, instead of whimpering in fear as he would when being held by someone he does not recognize, a wide smile breaks out on his face, causing a relieved smile to grace my lips in response. Perhaps Hajime's scent was imprinted on him shortly after his birth, so regardless of the time that has passed since last seeing him, Tsutomu would recognize his father. Whatever the reason, I am both relieved and pleased.

*****

"Well now," I respond to my boy, as he smiles at me. I have a suspicion that there is something about me that he recognizes. He may have been a tiny pup the last time I saw him, but I did spend a fair amount of time carrying him on my shoulder before I left. Nursing babies need burping, and it was something that I could do, since I was incapable of nourishing the child myself. Of course, this is an aspect of my domestic life that remains *very* private, known by only my wife and myself, and it is a piece of information that will stay that way as long as I live. I firmly believe that a father needs to take an active role in raising his sons. Mine is far too young to pick up a shinai, so I need to look for other things that the two of us can do together before the time is right to pursue other, more masculine endeavors.

A man who carries his child might be seen as being soft. However, anyone one who is even remotely acquainted with me would not even dare to entertain that thought. My reputation both precedes me and follows me; it has for more years than I care to count. Respect I have earned and respect I demand. Therefore, I don't relinquish Tsutomu back to Tokio's care. I merely incline my head in the direction I intend to go. I know she will follow.

*****

The butterflies in my stomach have disappeared. My anxious feelings have been replaced by the familiar calmness that comes when a person finally finds what is missing from their life. For me it wasn't 'something' that was missing, it was 'someone', someone, who is also a part of me. Anyone listening in on my thoughts would probably think of me as being draft, but that is the only way I can explain it. Part of me was missing these last five months; now that missing part has returned to make me whole again. It is as simple, and as complicated as that.

I am flooded with warmth as I gaze at the two most important men in my life, who are now eyeing each other. Finally, Hajime nods his head in the direction of the port's office, so I trail along behind as he starts walking across the pier.

*****

Before we leave the docks I stop by the harbor master's office, leaving Tokio waiting outside by the door. I want to let those in charge know that I'll be back in the morning to do the necessary paperwork. I have to admit that I do feel a bit tired, so I'm glad that the book work can wait until another day; it has never been my favorite part of police work.

I still have Tsutomu pressed to my shoulder when I enter the office, and I'm a bit surprised to see one of my men inside speaking with a gray-haired fellow. None of my subordinates have any further responsibilities here in Yokohama, and the puzzled look on my face garners a response from this one.

It seems that his older brother is the harbor master here at the port. Introductions are made and polite greetings given. What a small world it is. When I learn that Tokio was given hospitality by the man, as she waited for my ship to arrive, I give him my thanks for showing her such consideration. I notice that there is a pleased look on the face of my former troop member. Since he was one of the co-conspirators who managed to get me off the ship in one of the first waves of departures, he must feel a smugness that a relative of his was able to help my wife, albeit, unknowingly.

My son raises his head from where it rests to look at the men, only to rebury his face in my shoulder once he realizes he does not recognize the other people in the room. I give an amused chuckle, as there is nothing wrong with a man or boy being cautious about the company he keeps. It is a good first life-lesson.

Truth be told, I feel a twinge of pride as I show off my son to the others. It is not every man whose wife blesses him with a boy as his first child. It is only now, as a father myself, that I can understand how my father must have felt about Hiroaki and me.


	8. Chapter 8 The Reunion Part 3

After writing this chapter I decided to up the rating on this fic to M.

Another Battle for the Wolf – The Reunion Part 3

As soon as Hajime leaves the port's office, we head to the ryoken. Somehow I'm not surprised to learn that the harbor master's brother was a member of my husband's troop. The inn is not too far from the port and Hashimoto-san greets us as soon as we arrive, offering to take Tsutomu from me. We've been here for several days, enough time for him to recognize her, and not be concerned with her presence. She has played with him each day as the two of us visited over tea, exchanging news about our families. Her grandchildren live in Hokkaido and rarely visit, so it is a treat for her to have a baby around to dote on. I would not be inclined to leave him with a stranger, but she and her husband were such good friends of my parents that they are like an aunt and uncle to me. I glance at Hajime and he gives me a nod of approval. Gently, I transfer Tsutomu to Hashimoto-san's open arms. He squirms a bit before grabbing at her hair. She tells me not to worry, asking me to stop by and nurse him after Hajime bathes and the both of us have eaten.

Being a married woman, herself, I have an idea that she understands how I feel right now after being separated from my husband for so many months. I will be eternally grateful to her for this kindness. She indicates that there is fresh, hot water in their large furo. She had no way of knowing exactly when we would return from the docks, so she must have kept a fire under it for hours, another indication of her gracious hospitality. I am sure that when my husband has finished his bath, there will be food for both of us waiting in our room.

The bathhouse is in the ryoken's back garden. It is far enough away from the main building that bathers will not disturb the rest of the guests. Hajime follows behind me, as I cross the yard and make my way to the structure. Negotiating the steps, I enter, walking carefully in case the floor is wet and slippery.

I go straight to the shelf, checking to see if there are fresh towels and clean yukata. Smiling, I realize that I did not even need to look, not with our very efficient hostess. The air outside is a bit brisk today, but it is quite warm in here due to the heated furo. For now I remain wrapped in my kimono. Perhaps I can talk my husband into helping me washing my hair. It is much easier if I have help due to its thickness and length.

Hajime lingers outside. Maybe he is checking the fire to make sure it is still going strong. It is not until I smell the fragrance of tobacco that I realize he has stopped for a smoke. He wouldn't be a bit nervous, would he? No, he wouldn't, and I can't imagine why I would even let such a ridiculous thought cross my mind. Perhaps it is because those butterflies in my stomach that were flapping their wings earlier have returned. But this time I think they are there due to anticipation, rather than anxiousness.

*****

Tokio walks in front of me as we head to the bathhouse, giving me a great view of her backside in the process. I have always admired the shape of her neck. A well dressed Japanese woman is not supposed to show any curves when she wears kimono; she should look as though her body is straight like a log. No matter how well dressed my wife may be, I know what is underneath those carefully arranged layers of cloth.

It's definitely time for a cigarette break. It won't take long; I probably won't even finish it. Pausing in the yard, I let Tokio go into the bathhouse alone. It only takes seconds to retrieve a smoke from the pack I keep in my breast pocket. Once it's lit, I take a few long drags before flicking it to the ground, and stepping on it. I'll be sure to pick up the butt when I return to the main building, as it's not good form to leave a mess for others to deal with. Right now there is more important business to attend than smoking. Before I join my wife I check to see that there is enough wood on the fire to keep the furo warm for quite some time, since I don't intend on taking just a quick soak in the tub.

Silently, I enter the bathhouse, almost as if I was stocking prey, not that I would consider Tokio to be that, at least not all the time. Locking the door behind me, I ensure that my wife and I won't be interrupted. Most people don't bathe at this time of day, anyway. If they want to, that's their tough luck. They'll just have to wait; I was on that ship for far too long. I have the rest of the day off, and I don't intend to waste it, especially since Tokio and I seem to have a very capable babysitter in Hashimoto-san.

*****

Concentrating on getting the bath things ready, I didn't hear him open the door, and I almost didn't hear the click of the lock that tells me that this is likely to be more than just a bath session. Before I can turn around, soft footsteps approach me from behind, so I stay where I am. The next thing I know a pair of arms slip around my waist and draw me into firm, warm embrace. I've been married to him long enough to recognize what he is up to.

"Not now, Hajime," I whisper to him.

"Then when," he responds, kissing the base of my neck, causing a tickling sensation.

"Soon," I say, as one of his arms leaves my side and the fingers of his right hand trail up and down my cheek. Although this sends a shiver down my spine, I manage to maintain my composure. I have a husband who needs a bath first; everything else will have to wait.

"Hajime, strip and I'll wash your back," the tone of my voice tells him it is a request, rather than a demand. All good wives wash their husband's back, and I am no exception.

*****

Either she is too tempting, or I have been gone too long, but thoughts of a bath are far from my mind once I'm inside the building with her. Coming from behind her, I slip my arms around her waist before leaning down and kissing her gently on the base of her neck, breathing in her scent. It's just like the memories of her that surfaced on those nights in Kyushu. She smells freshly bathed. I smirk to myself. I hope she doesn't mind taking a second one today. After a bit of word sparring with her it's evident that I'll not get what I want, until she gets what she wants…a clean husband.

I allow her to help me take off my jacket even though I am quite capable of doing it myself. If she wants to do it, who am I to argue with her. However, I do insist on removing the rest of my clothing without help. Out of the corner of my eye, as I undress, I see my wife retrieve the pack of cigarettes from my jacket's breast pocket and place it on the shelf before picking up a small cloth. Not much escapes my notice.

*****

Standing behind him, facing his backside, washcloth in hand, I wait patiently for him to finish undressing, draw a bucket of water from the furo and sit on the small bench, so I can scrub his back. He reaches backward and hands me his remaining clothing, which I carefully fold before placing it in a basket. Even though it will be laundered tonight there is no need to wad his uniform up carelessly. It isn't until he turns to face me, bucket of water in hand, that it achingly hits me just how much I have missed him. I inhale sharply, my eyes immediately travelling to the scar on his leg after having glanced at other things, which brought a blush to my face, along with the feeling of being a new bride. That scar has to be where he was shot, as he didn't have that one when he left for Kyushu.

*****

I shake my head and give a little snort at Tokio's reaction. It's not like she's never seen me in a state of undress; but it has been a while. Serves her right, I have no sympathy for her, as she was the one who insisted that I needed a bath first. She seems frozen in place, wide eyed, as I walk past her and settle onto the bench, my back toward her. Since she can't see my face, I allow a little smile to creep across my lips when I finally hear her move towards me from where she was rooted to the floor.

*****

The wash cloth slips from my hand and lands on the floor, as I watch him sit on the small bench. I don't even realize it happened. Almost hesitatingly, I touch my fingers to his bare shoulders once he is seated. It has been so long since I have felt his skin beneath mine. The muscles in his back tense slightly at the contact. Then he raises a hand and covers the fingers of one of mine with his. Leaning over I whisper to him that I missed him, and that I am so happy to have him home. It is only then that I release myself from his touch to pick up the cloth from the floor and dip it into the pail, wetting it, so I can rub it across the bar of soap. I start to scrub the plains of his back, willing my mind not to wander, to keep my focus on the task at hand. As I trace gentle, but firm circles across his shoulders, I think about how much I have missed the quiet strength he brings to my life.

*****

Her firm, gentle touch has always relaxed me, so it puzzles me when I tense slightly as her hands rest on my shoulders. It's the first time I've felt her touch on my skin, since returning. Over these last months, I've been conditioned to avoid contact with my adversaries; that's the only way a warrior can survive. But I'm no longer in a war zone, and this isn't another soldier attacking me. It's my wife for kami's sake, and what she is doing is as far from an attack, as the night is from the day. Reflexively, I reach for one of her hands and give it a little squeeze to reassure her that I'm not dissatisfied by her action, quite the contrary. Her gentle touch and the missives, whispered into my ear, remind me of what I missed while I was away, and serve to increase the desire that surfaced the moment I saw her, as I stood on the deck while the ship was docking.

*****

When I am done with his back, I hand him the cloth so he can finish washing, while I undress. I've already had one bath today, but another won't hurt, especially since I didn't take the time to wash my hair this morning. As I place my clothing in the dirty clothes basket and reach for a clean wash cloth and hair soap, I hear him dump the bucket of water over himself, then dip another one from the furo. He always seems to be able to clean up quicker than I can. Coming up behind me, he takes the wash cloth out of my hand; then guides me to the seat. Apparently, it is now my turn to get my back scrubbed. It has been so long since the two of us have been alone together.

*****

This woman has always been irresistible to me. Instead of cleaning her back, I lean over and trace a few kisses along her shoulder, giving her a hint of what is coming, not that she needs one. It is only then that I grab the cloth and gently draw it over the smooth skin of her shoulders, and down her arms. I'm tempted to wash more than just her backside, but I finally decide to relinquish the cloth to let her finish the task. If she wants help with her hair, as she often does, I can start on that. It will get us into the furo that much sooner.

One at a time I remove the pins from her hair, causing it to tumble like a curtain that has been released from its ties. I stroke her long tresses, letting my fingers thread through them. Her hair is as soft and seductive as I remember. She's leaning over to scrub her feet, when I ask her to close her eyes so I can gently pour some warm water over her hair to dampen it. As efficient as I am, it doesn't take me long to work up a lather with the hair concoction she hands me. She swats at my hand with one of hers when my fingers bear down on her scalp, giving it a firm, brisk rub.

"It's good for your circulation," I say with authority.

"And for creating bald spots," she replies with a slightly amused tone of voice.

"No, it's those ridiculous, fancy hairstyles that cause those," I shoot back.

She doesn't give more than a small 'humpf' in response, having the graciousness to know when she's been verbally bested. I'm amazed at how easily we fall back into our old routines; it's almost like I was never gone from her life.

I only needed one bucket of clean water to rinse myself. However, even as small as she is, my wife always seems to need three of them. I've concluded it's because of that mass of hair of hers. Not that I'm complaining about it, because I'm not. I retrieve another couple of full buckets, and carefully pour them over her, making sure all the soap is gone before leading her to the tub.

*****

After washing my back, assisting with my hair, helping me rinse, and poking a bit of fun at me in the process, Hajime ushers me into the furo. I am glad that he didn't leave his sense of humor behind in Kyushu. Some men carry the aftermath of a war with them where ever they go, regardless of how many years intervene. Thankfully, that has never been the case with Hajime.

The water is pleasantly warm, and I am buoyant, which allows me to move easily. As soon as he joins me, I settle onto his lap, facing him, straddling his legs. I am grateful to finally be reunited with him after being apart for such a long time. This is the way life should be. We merely gaze at each other for a few moments. It's as if we are trying to convince ourselves that this is not a dream and that we truly are together again. It doesn't take him long to claim my lips. Pent up emotions rise to the surface, and once more the two of us become one.

*****

Author's Note: When I finished writing this, I realized that the scenario had to be subconsciously (since I wasn't thinking about her fic when I was writing this chapter) inspired by Chapter 26 of Jesphoenix05's AU Stargate/RK fantasy crossover, The Place Where I Belong, which is posted here at ff net. It is a wonderful tale of how the relationship between S and T slowly develops. If you would like to read a sweet romantic moment between S and T, head over to her fic and at least read Chapter 26.

Hajime finding Tokio 'irresistible' is a nod to another wonderful fan fic, 'Irresistible', by Kamorgana. The finished version is posted in the Files (Saitoh based fics) of the yahoo group: rk_bad_boys_citrus_paradise. A link to this yahoo group can be found on Kamorgana's ff net profile page. (A portion of 'Irresistible' is also posted here at ff net.)

A furo is a Japanese bathtub. The Japanese wash and rinse before getting into it for a soak.

A straight profile is the goal when dressing in a kimono. If you have curves, it is necessary to pad yourself around the waist with a towel so you have a 'straight' looking body profile, like a log, according to a local Nihon-go sensei, who was born and raised in Tokyo and conducts kimono dressing workshops.

There is one more, short part to the above scene before it is finished.


	9. Chapter 9 The Reunion Part 4

Another Battle For the Wolf – The Reunion Part 4

There is nothing better to welcome a man home, than a fully cooperative wife, and mine is all of that if not more. I will always be thankful that in this life she and I are bonded together in marriage.

*****

We are now both sitting with our backs to the side of the furo after celebrating Hajime's return in the best way possible. Sighing contentedly, I snuggle against him, trailing my fingers along the length of his arm, enjoying the warmth of the water and just being near him. Time seems to stop, as I revel in the closeness we share this afternoon. As long as he is with me, he will lend me his strength whenever I run short of my own.

His kiss to the top of my head and the little nudge he gives me are his signals that it is time for us to leave this warm cocoon. I look at him with a warm smile, silently thanking him for our time together. I know that he has cherished it as much as I have, even though he won't say it. As much as I would like to, we cannot spend the remaining hours of the day in here. We have responsibilities that cannot be neglected. It is almost time for Tsutomu to eat, and both Hajime and I need dinner, and some rest. I'm sure it has been a very long day for my husband, and he does have to report back to work in the morning. With any luck Hashimoto-san has worn Tsutomu out by playing with him. I have a feeling that our whole family will turn in for the night a little earlier than usual.

Reluctantly, I move out of the warmth of the furo. The air inside the bathhouse is cool enough to raise a few goose bumps on my skin. Hajime was out first and reaches to give me a hand out of the tub. Both of us hastily dry and dress in the fresh yukata that Hashimoto-san left on the shelf. I then wrap a clean towel around my head. I will finish drying my hair once I return to our room. I have a feeling that dinner will be waiting for us when we get back there. Hajime doesn't know it yet, but he isn't quite finished with my hair. It still needs combing. That puts a smile on my face.

I glance at the dirty laundry in the baskets, knowing that one of the girls who is employed by the ryoken will take care of it. It is nice to have someone to do it for me tonight. Taking Hajime's hand, I let him guide me back inside the main building so we can finish what remains of our day with our son. The pleasant memories of this afternoon with him will sustain me the next time he has to leave town. The best part of having him gone on an assignment is the day I welcome him back.

*****

Unfortunately, this interlude with Tokio needs to come to an end. We can continue this sort of very pleasant 'business' once we get back to our house. My former troops aren't the only ones who have a two week furlough before heading back to their precincts. I have an idea that my wife and I will be spending the whole time I have off at home, quite occupied.

There are a few things yet to do to get ready for work tomorrow, not to mention that I don't want to impose on Hashimoto-san's hospitality for too long, even though she was the one who insisted on keeping our son for us. I give Tokio a little nudge after kissing the top of her head. I think she was falling asleep on my shoulder. That puts a satisfied smirk on my lips. A man isn't a man unless he can put his wife to sleep after some vigorous activity.

I'm the first one out of the furo, and I extend a hand to help her over the edge of the tub. The last thing I want is my wife slipping and hurting herself. She's a bit groggy from her 'almost' nap, so she's a little unsteady on her feet. It reminds me of how she moves when she is expecting, and as her lithe form steps from the tub, I can't help but wonder when she'll become pregnant again. Not only does Tsutomu need a little brother, I need another student or two for the family dojo. Perhaps it happened this afternoon; I can only hope.

Before I slip into one myself, I pick a clean yukata from the shelf, shake it open and hold it up so Tokio can slip her arms through the sleeves as soon as she finishes toweling herself. I noticed her shiver a bit; the cool evening air is beginning to seep into the small structure now that the water in the furo is cooling. Stepping outside, I lean over and pick up the cigarette butt I dropped earlier. My other hand takes one of hers, as she comes down the bathhouse steps, so I can lead her back through the garden.

A homecoming such as this one, which was carefully planned and masterfully executed by my wife, certainly makes me feel happy to be back. To be wanted and needed by his family has to be a man's greatest joy.


End file.
